Captured Moments
by ATTHS
Summary: After Mulder returns to his motel room in Quagmire, he discovers some unexpected pictures within the stack on his table.


Coming back to his room, Mulder removed his cold and still damp clothes with near frozen fingers. He shivered as he stepped into the warm shower, staying in until the water began to cool. Turning it off, he dried and redressed, throwing his wet clothes into a plastic bag.

His gaze landed on the boxes of pictures taken by Ansel that were still sitting on the table. The evidence he so desperately wanted to capture and yet most of the pictures were of the lake, rocks, and the sky. Some were so blurry, they could have been anything, but sadly none were of the elusive Big Blue.

As he began to box them up, planning to leave them at the tackle shop for the next hopeful believer, a flash of red caught his eye.

Moving some of the pictures around, he found one of Scully, taken as they were on the dock. She was reaching for the body in the water, an umbrella in her hand. Looking more carefully through the pictures, he found more of Scully. There were some of him and quite a few of the two of them together. In some, they were staring intently at one another and in any other circumstance, he might believe they were discussing something more than a simple work case.

The pictures were almost intimate and he looked around the room, as though he was seeing something he should not be. He was alone of course, but he still felt exposed as he stared at her profile, how she tilted her head, and the way her hair curled a bit more in the rain.

The very last picture was Scully smiling as she held Queequeg in her arms as she untied his leash from the post. Knowing she would like to have that picture, he set it aside and put the rest in a separate pile.

Gathering the remaining blurry and unusable pictures, he set them in the box, closing the lid. A man's lifelong obsession held in a few small boxes. Scully was right: he and Ansel did share similar traits. It would depress him if he thought about it too long, so instead, he packed up his things to be ready to leave first thing in the morning.

Feeling too wired to sleep despite the late hour, he slid on his jacket and picked up the pictures. He walked over to Scully's room and knocked on the door. She opened it after a few moments, dressed in her pajamas, her hair slightly damp.

"Oh… sorry," he said, glancing at her clothing. "It's… it's late. I was just thinking maybe you were hungry." Suddenly feeling awkward, he shrugged. "You're ready for bed. I'm sorry." Turning around, he made to go back to his room when he heard her sigh.

"I could eat, if you go pick something up. I'm not going to change my clothes. Or leave this room, so the decision is yours," she said and he grinned with a nod. Going back for his wallet and keys, he left to find some place that was open.

An hour later, he was back with a bag of tacos and burritos in his hand. Two iced teas were in a carrier and he kicked lightly on the door to get her attention. She opened it and smiled slightly, letting him inside. He set the food on the table and they sat down to eat.

She was quiet and he knew her mind was most likely on Queequeg and the horrible way he must have died. "I'm sorry about Queequeg," he said again and she looked up at him. "I know you liked having him with you and… I'm sorry." She nodded and wiped her hands on a napkin.

"I feel like it's my fault. If I'd gotten a different leash… one that didn't stretch so far…" she sighed and locked her fingers together.

"Scully, that alligator could have come out of the woods to grab him, or you, long leash or not. It's not your fault." He smiled kindly and she nodded, her eyes downcast. "It's my fault, if it's anyone's."

"Well…" She looked up and gave him a small smile. "No, you couldn't have known it would happen, Mulder. It just did." She sighed and he nodded. Reaching into his left inside jacket pocket, he took out the picture of her and Queequeg and slid it in front of her.

"This was in with Ansel's pictures. I thought you would like to have it."

She picked it up and took a deep breath. "Poor Queequeg. He was a good little dog."

He did not say anything about the annoying traits Queequeg had, but simply nodded and sighed as he watched her look at the picture. "I did like having him around, Mulder. It wasn't ideal for our busy lifestyle, but he was sweet and always happy to see me."

"It's hard to be _un_happy when you're fed treats all the time, you have a soft warm bed to sleep in, and lots of toys to play with," he teased her and she smiled, one that reached her eyes this time. He smiled back and stood up. "It's late. I'll clean this up and let you get some sleep."

She nodded and stayed seated as he moved around her. Once the table was cleaned and the food thrown away, he touched her shoulder and she looked up at him.

"Goodnight," he said quietly and she nodded as he walked out of the room.

He took the pictures out of his pocket before taking off his jacket and looked at them. Smiling at the look of skepticism on her face in one, he put them on the table and laid his jacket on the chair.

Laying down, he closed his eyes and thought of Queequeg. He never really liked him much, but Scully had. It _was_ a terrible way to die and he felt awful for how it happened. Shaking his head regretfully, he turned over and was soon asleep.

His dreams that night were of Queequeg. He could hear him barking, with that annoying little yap he had. The sun was shining brightly, and laughter was heard behind him as he ran through fields of tall grass, happy and alive.


End file.
